‘By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.’ – Shakespeare, Macbeth Act 4, Scene 1

Wonderful quote. Very famous. And until recently I completely misunderstood its origin. Apparently the witches in Macbeth are richly quotes soil. After all, we all remember ‘double, double, boil and trouble…’ sadly, though I do pride myself on being a reader of Shakespeare and familiar with most of his works, I have always thought this was from Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury’s 1962 novel Something Wicked This Way Comes a character blurts this little gem out… but there doesn’t ever seem to be a reference to where it comes from. After all, everyone knows Shakespeare and he needs no introduction. *DeepSigh*

Now I know… and knowing is half the battle.

Anyway this all was going towards a discussion of The Soul’s Midnight. This is yet another part of Bradbury’s novel. In the course of discussion we are told that 3am is The Soul’s Midnight, the point at which we are closest to death. This knowledge is supposed to be bone chilling and spooky. I’m here to ruin it, to discuss it in terms of the office.

Recently someone started talking about how awful the hour from 3pm to 4pm is. Everyone in the office become a clockwatcher. The minutes tick by slowly. Caffeine fails us, and there is not a nap to be found. I would like to suggest that 3pm and not 3am is The Soul’s Midnight. We are closer to the grave in this particular 60 minutes than all the rest of our living.

I’m looking for a way to avoid 3pm entirely.

the last month i have been bachelored, a young married, a single parent and a child.

we have been "vacationing." which means traveling all over and working very hard when not actively on a plane or in a car.

the good of this is that i have a garage full of beautiful tools and have been reminded of how close to my heart my wife dwells. my daughter has found a new appreciation of our family and our home.

traveling is good, a kind of catharsis that reminds you of what you have, what home means. but the exhaustion from the simple act of moving is horrid. you are cramped the food is not healthy. you get tired. you may have a great traveling companion, but one of you always ends up smelling funky. and on the list goes.

the last few weeks have made me thankful for so many things. so, here, in no particular order are the things that i find myself thankful beyond words:

my wife
my daughter
a good bed
public transport
my parents
friends
friends that will run out and do for you without real explanations
puppies
sawdust
family hugs
generosity of others
my garden